


fall into you

by altairity



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:25:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altairity/pseuds/altairity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were worlds inside Isana Yashiro, and frankly, Yatogami Kuroh was a little lost in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fall into you

Nobody could have guessed that winter was on its way. Between the cattails that lazily swept to and fro out of the grass, the ocean blinked up at them in shimmers of sun-tipped waves, and the rail line to Ashinaka High School hummed quietly with each passing train. 

Kuroh wondered if any of the students on the train would bother to look down and chance seeing the three figures sprawled in the shade of the grassy bank by the ocean. With a lazy breeze that was more reminiscent of July than late December, the day was perfect for napping. Neko was already availing herself of the opportunity, stretched out with her head in Shiro’s lap, faced buried in his stomach. Kuroh sat on his other side, legs folded, keenly aware of the wind threading through his ponytail. 

Shiro’s eyes were closed, his face upturned slightly, and Kuroh couldn’t help the way his gaze slid to him; it was as natural as water sliding down to its own level. They were sitting in the dappled shade of a few trees so that the sway of the leaves caused soft blooms of sunlight to dance across Shiro’s face. The light skated over the thin, nearly translucent skin of his eyelids, down the planes of his cheeks, and jumped back up to play in the silvery swathes of his hair. 

The small smile on Shiro’s face mystified Kuroh more than a thousand conspiracy plots or forgotten memories. In every angle of the boy’s limbs he read peace. Kuroh could almost see the ocean air ghosting right through him, as if he were no more than a breath on the wind himself, insubstantial despite the cat weighing down his lap and the dog patiently waiting beside him. If Kuroh looked away, he couldn’t be sure the boy would still be there when he looked back, and yet the set of Shiro’s lips quietly proclaimed that even that was fine. 

He was still stewing over these incongruities when Shiro opened his eyes and tilted his head towards him, his smile pulling up at one corner in a question. Kuroh weighed his words carefully, speaking them in a measured voice. “Isana Yashiro has only lived for two weeks.” 

“Well… when you say it like that, it seems awfully short, doesn’t it?” The boy laughed; his words, in contrast, were light and thrown carelessly like stones skipping across water, and Neko curled closer into him with a happy purr. 

“Knowing that,” Kuroh continued, “how can you look so carefree? None of it may even have been real.” 

At this, Shiro’s eyes dimmed, and Kuroh had to remind himself that this was a boy who could not remember having a mother to kiss him goodnight, or childhood friends to play with him. All he was made of was a little laughter and a Strain’s illusions, and he was likely to drift away on the ocean breeze come stronger winds. Maybe Kuroh just wanted to tighten his grip. 

“I suppose you could think of it that way… but it doesn’t feel like that to me.” Shiro leaned back on one hand, stroking Neko’s hair with the other. “To me, it feels like each of those moments contains something bigger. Eating lunch with friends, or helping out with the school festival… it’s like every time Kukuri laughs, I can sense all the other times she’s been happy behind it. Every time Mishina teases me, I feel a sense of warmth and friendship that seems familiar, even if I can’t remember specific moments like that before. In those little moments, I think I can feel worlds inside of them.” 

And that was what Kuroh would never understand about Shiro—how someone whose existence was so ephemeral could glimpse insights so deep, how someone so close could seem so far away. 

Shiro turned to him again, lips quirking up weakly. “Do you think that’s okay?” 

Despite the attentive gleam in his eyes, the corner of his coat that flapped against Kuroh’s shirt, and every other sign that screamed to Kuroh _I’m here, I’m here,_ why did he still feel like something about the boy was forever out of his grasp? 

He closed his eyes and said, “Yes. I think that’s fine.”

Shiro smiled and closed his eyes again. Slowly, he tipped his head onto Kuroh’s shoulder, as if to give the older boy ample opportunity to move away. When he kept still, the boy sighed and nestled more comfortably against Kuroh. 

The minutes passed, one upon the other like waves breaking against the bank. Another train went by. Shiro’s breath evened, and Kuroh felt the quiet electricity where the boy’s forehead met his cheek. 

He looked at the girl dozing on Shiro’s lap. For all her innocent felinity, she was the one who had molded Shiro out of white lies and twists in others’ perceptions. She had given him his place and his scant memories, his worlds upon worlds. Perhaps there was a depth in her that was locked behind those mismatched eyes. 

He reached out and tentatively placed a hand on her head. Neko blinked awake at his hesitant touch. “Kurosuke?” she murmured, rubbing an eye. 

Kuroh motioned with his eyes towards Shiro, then looked back at Neko. “He’s your Shiro, right?” 

“Of course!” Her cheeks puffed. “Shiro has always been Neko’s Shiro!” 

“No.” He tugged lightly at her hair, eliciting a muffled yowl. “He’s Isana Yashiro because of your powers, right?” 

Her brow furrowed as she considered the meaning behind his question. “Well… yes. But Shiro has always been who Shiro is!” 

“I see.” He absentmindedly scratched behind her ears. “Then, thank you.” 

Her smile curved up in simple, animal pleasure. “Neko’s a good neko! Neko will share her Shiro with everyone, including Kurosuke!” 

He raised a hand to his lips, glancing again at the sleeping boy. Neko lowered her voice, tapering off in a series of happy meows, and stretched herself out to place her head on Kuroh’s lap so that she was sprawled over him as well as Shiro. Within moments, she was dozing again. 

Kuroh listened to both their contented breathing, feeling the warmth of their bodies, the swirls of the breeze, the plushness of the grass beneath his fingers. However much of these two he knew only from magic and illusion, he had at least the assurance of this moment, and the worlds within it.

**Author's Note:**

> I really never thought I’d write anything for the main trio, but then my brain went and gave me a dream involving them the other day and I think it reawakened the magic for me :)


End file.
